The Ghost of You
by Luffeh
Summary: One-shot, post-Mockingjay. Finnick returns to District 4 after his death and finds Annie, which has given birth to a beautiful child. But severe changes in their lives has been made - and now Annie is in danger of dying herself.


**A/N: Hi everyone! Here's my first THG fanfiction. It's about the beloved couple Finnick + Annie, of course. It's post-Mockinjay - I've made a few changes. First of all, the rebels did _not_ win the war. The Capitol did. And I know Mockingjay says that Annie was pregnant with a boy, but I changed that for a girl because of personal reasons. :) Anyway, I know I haven't updated my other FF's for a loooong time... Oops, sorry. :P I'm just so busy, but then this one-shot popped into my head, and I just had to write it! So yeah. I hope you'll enjoy + remember to review, it means so much to me! :)**

* * *

**The Ghost of You**

The pain. Oh, the pain. Overwhelming, heartbreaking, flesh ripping, concussive, shadows all but the thought of how I'm going to die within a matter of seconds.

But I am already dead.

I tell myself that it isn't real, that it's not there, and just as I'm about to give up, the horrifying pain disappears.

I am free.

Gasping for air, dizzy and blinded by something I'm not sure what is, I try to find out where I am. I can see different shades of blue – azure, cerulean, sapphire and baby blue. Then the white colors blend into my sight – soft and subdued.

Where am I? Is this Heaven?

The calming sound of waves hitting stones by the coast makes me certain that I'm not somewhere in the sky, where people believe the dead things will be.

I am still on Earth.

But where am I? Have I ever been here before? And most important of all – how did I get here?

I try to scan my brain for any information I might have forgotten, anything that perhaps was hidden, but nothing comes onto my mind. I am clueless, but as I open my eyes and get used to the blinding sun I realize where I am.

I am still in Panem. I am in District 4. I am home.

* * *

A large house towers over me. It's nice and cozy on the outside with recently painted walls. Sea green. Rich and newly cut bushes frames the garden, which is lush and well-groomed.

I wonder who lives here. A family perhaps? Parents and kids with big hopes for their future? A mother, kissing her children goodnight whenever the dark falls?

I walk up the few steps that makes out the stair leading up to the veranda. The front door is an amazing piece of art – mussels and conches creates the frame for the blurred window, at it's right the bronze doorknob shines and beams in the sunlight.

I knock on the door, but nobody opens. I think that perhaps nobody's home, but I can't figure out why that leads me to open the door and take a step inside. Why am I so drawn to this house? Why does it make me forget all the questions that's circling around in my head?

The hallway is just as impressive as the front of the house. The walls are painted in a brown color, on the edge of the bronze shade that I saw on the doorknob. Paintings fill up the walls – beautiful landscapes, a good-hearted family and many motives of the sea. All different, but all relaxing and captivating to look at.

In front of me is a stair. It's a darker version of the color on the walls. I walk up the stairs and find myself on the first floor. I look to my right and see a door standing ajar. I don't know why, but suddenly I feel a desperate need to walk through that door and be in that room. So I do. I gently push the door open and take a step inside the room, but that's when I stop and see the most divine part of this house.

Annie.

In an instant the pain comes back. But it's different this time. It's not the pain that makes me want to yell at the world and close my eyes until it's gone. It's the kind of pain that hurts even in the bones, and deep into the place where my unbeating heart is. The kind of pain that fills my eyes with tears, the pain that makes me forget everything but that very moment.

She's beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Her dark hair flows so gently down her back, her face is so pure and glows just like it used to. Her eyes, so full of love and gentleness that, if I was still alive, my heart would skip a beat. My love, my love. My Annie...

And there, in her arms, lies the most perfect thing I've ever seen. So innocent and vulnerable, so lovely that I can't help but hold my breath. Her eyes are a dark green, just like Annies, and the small hints of hair on her head is a dark bronze and shines in the sunlight, as if it was a hidden treasure under the sea.

Annies baby. Our baby.

In front of the two of them is a beige cradle that looks just like a conch. On the sea green walls there's more mussels that forms the letters of our babys name.

Daniella.

It couldn't be more perfect. I know in an instant that Annie chose it, because nomatter how much I may forget, that is something I'll never forget. How Annie used to tell me that if she ever got a little baby girl, she would call her Daniella, and that she would love her with all of her heart 'till the end of her days. I know it's still true. Annie loves Daniella with a love only a mother can feel.

Daniella. My Daniella.

She begins to cry, and I instantly want to hold her, embrace her and be there for her until everything's okay. My baby, my poor baby.

"Ssssh," hushes Annie with that soft voice I fell in love with. "It's alright, Dani, it's alright... Everything's fine... Mommy is here..."

The sound of her voice sends stabs of pain through my heart. I fall on my knees, but I don't take my eyes off her. She's so beautiful it hurts.

"Annie," I want to whisper, but there's no sound. I have no voice. I cannot call her. I cannot tell her that I'm here. That I'm okay. That I love her and I always will. Never will she hear my voice again. Never will she know how much she's worth.

Annie puts Dani in the craddle and strokes her peachy cheeks. Dani grins at her. Her baby-voice, the smile that tells Annie what she cannot say in words is clear to me. I love you, she says. I love you, mommy.

Annie kisses her on the forehead and leaves the room after a little while, and suddenly the puzzle's solved. Now I know why I felt so drawn to this place. Because it's where Annie lives. Where Annie spends her days, where she's safe with our little baby.

I try to call out Annies name again, but the only thing I feel is a silent echo caused by my muted words. I try to get up, but it's like my knees are glued to the floor, and as the pain comes back and makes my heart ache, I feel the transparent tears, slowly streaming down my cheeks.

* * *

Annie is in the kitchen, preparing some shellfish. She's always been an amazing cook, but the smell of this dish, my favorite dish, makes my stomach rumble. She doesn't say anything, but hums a little to herself every now and then. I know the melody. It's a childrens song. My mother used to sing it to me when I was little. Now Annie hums it to herself.

The phone calls. The sudden ringing makes me come back to reality, and as Annie picks it up I realize that my heart may be still, and I may be invisble and unable to talk, but my hearing is like the volume is at it's loudest. I didn't notice it before, but I can hear the person on the other end of the phone as clear as if the person was standing right next to me.

It's my childhood friend, Aiden Longshore. He still has his characteristic, deep voice of a grown man.

"How are you, Annie?" he asks.

"I'm fine. Just trying to keep a normal living as usual." she mumbles and twists a lock of hair around her finger. I'm trying to be as silent as possible, even though my hearing is a thousand times better, but I want to hear every single word that she says. Her voice soothes me. It makes everything better.

"Annie, listen. I need to know if you got rid of the Storms."

"I did. Eleanor and Rebecca should be safe." she says.

The Storms. Eleanor and Rebecca Storm. I know who they are – I used to visit them when I was just a kid. They lived right down the road, but I never knew that Annie knew them. And what does Aiden mean when he asks if Annie got rid of them? They surely can't be gone if Annie says they're safe, can they?

"That leads us up to 40. Great job, Annie. I'll let them know."

I still have no clue what he means, but the sight of Annie dozing off catches my attention. She looks into the distance, just as she used to do, with these blank eyes and this far-off sight. Like she's somewhere else. Like she's not on the phone with Aiden anymore.

Aiden must know what her silence means, because he continues with keeping the conversation going. It makes me wonder how often Annie gets other human contact than the one she gets from our baby. If people ever visit her. Drop by and say hello. Make sure she's okay.

"You know, you're a real hero in District 4, Annie. Everyone loves you for what you've done. You're a true Mockingjay yourself."

Mockingjay. The word sends thousands of memories through my head – but the one thing that is most clear to me is a name.

Katniss Everdeen. She was the Mockingjay. I suddenly wonder how it all ended, if the rebels won it all or the Capitol still reapes for the Games every year.  
And why is Annie a Mockingjay? Can the whole thing about getting rid of the Storms have a completely different meaning?

"Thank you," Annie finally says and twists a lock of hair around the very same finger.

"Tomorrow you will try to secure the Evans, alright?"

"Yes. The Evans. All of the kids?"

"Just Jill and Lucy. Sam is 19 now, he can't be reaped. But the rest of them can." Aiden says. "There's an important meeting in the dining hall tomorrow at 2 o'clock in the Justice Building. Try to sneak in by then and remove their names from the glass ball, okay?"

"I will," says Annie. "Jill and Lucy Evans. Consider them safe already." she says. Then they hang up. And as Annie finishes her shellfish I figure out what this is all about.

Annie has been sneaking in in the Justice Building and removed pieces of papers with certain names written on them. That's what Aiden meant by getting rid of the Storms. Eleanor and Rebeccas names aren't in the glass ball anymore. They can't be reaped.

Tomrrow Jill and Lucy Evans will be safe as well. And as I realize the beauty in this, that Annie risks her life to save the children of District 4, I realize another thing.

Not only is it beautiful. It's also dangerous.

And punishable by death.

* * *

Annie is lying in her bed. She's wearing a pretty white nightgown. Her hair frames her peaceful face. There's a baby monitor on the nightstand so that she will be able to hear if Daniella is sad or scared.

She has her hands folded over her duvet. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is moving as she whispers a silent prayer.

"Dear God. Today I made Eleanor and Rebecca Storm safe. I hope I have payed them back for all they've helped me with. Tomorrow I will try to secure Jill and Lucy Evans. I thank you for my beautiful daughter. Please let her stay healthy and well, and let no one harm my little baby. I thank everyone from District 4 for taking care of us in the past year. For helping us settle down and build us this beautiful home. I thank you for letting Finnick be a part of my life, even though he's not here anymore. If you see him in Heaven, please tell him that we both love him and that we miss him everyday."

Then she comes to a silent, and as I watch the moonlight bathe her in a silvery mist I suddenly think of all the small details I haven't noticed. How the photo of the family in the hallway was her family and my family, together at one place. It must've been taken after my death.

I think of how the color of the house is sea green, just like Daniellas room. Sea green, as she always told me was the color of my eyes.

How the doorknob and the wallpaper in the hallway has that same shade of bronze as my hair, as she always told me how much she adored.

Did she tell the people of District 4? Or did they already know?

Suddenly I can see it all before my eyes. How all my old friends would paint the house, cut the bushes for her and furniture her new home. How much they love her for what she's doing. How much I'd love her.

As she falls asleep I lay down beside her and gently stroke her cheek. The only thing I see of myself is the silhoutte of my hand, and her hand, shortly touching mine as her fingers brush the place where I touched her.

* * *

I am a ghost. I am nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Falling in the eternal darkness that now is the night for me. Maintained by the dawn as the sun rises in the east, a mixture of orange and a light pink, greeting a new day.

Annie is lying next to me. I can reach out and touch her cheek, or maybe her chin, or feel her hair under my fingers. Ever so soft and silky. Or perhaps her lips, if I stretch just that far?

In that very moment she opens her eyes, quick and easy. She must've been awake. I could sense it, just like I can hear the tiniest sounds now. She must've been lying and thinking about something, because when she looks at the roof, she frowns and tries to hold back the tears that wets her eyes.

I want to tell her that it's okay, that she shouldn't cry, that I'm here with her. But she can't hear me, she doesn't know I'm here, and when she gets out of the cold bed I notice that her clothes has changed. She isn't in her white nightgown anymore – she's in a loose, green shirt, buttoned all the way up to her neck. It's too big for her and reaches down to her thighs – it's mine. My shirt. My scent. The only thing she has to hold on to.

The baby monitor is gone. Instead there is a digital clock. Apparently it's 7:42 am and the 2nd of May, but I am absolutely certain that many years has passed since yesterday. Or what I'd think was yesterday.

Surely, Annie looks a bit older too, but she still has that young and innocent look everyone adores. She looks tired, though, almost exhausted. As if it's a struggle just to get out of bed and start the day. And when I hear the distant cry of a young child I know why. Because only one thing can hurt my daughter. Only one thing can make Annie feel this way.

The reaping.

Annie hurries into Daniellas room, and I follow her silently. Dani has grown so much. Her hair is long and wavy, her eyes knowing and she now has the height of a 12-year-old.

Annie crawls into Danis bed, which no longer is a cradle. It has transformed into a single-person bronze- and gold-colored bed.

"Ssssh," Annie whispers, embracing our child and rocking her gently to calm her down. "Ssssh."

"Mommy," Dani gasps and closes her eyes. Tears stream down her face, but her voice is low and frightened.

They sit like that for a long time. Sharing their concerns without any words. Just sitting there, dreading the reaping. Just like everybody else.

Even though Annie must've removed Daniellas name from the glass ball in the Justice Building, they're still scared. Because you can never count on the system. The Capitol is sneaky like a snake. And nothing's changed. The Games are still going on. People are still dying.

I am filled with a rage, so furious that I kick the door. But it doesn't move, doesn't even make a sound, and this makes me even more hollow than I thought I could be. Just standing there, watching the love of my life trying to calm our daughter that will never see me.

Why hasn't anything been done? Why is the Games still running? After all the rebels did, after all of our efforts, all the losses... it's as if none of it mattered.

Annie and Dani get dressed and walk downstairs where Annie prepares a light meal for both of them. A steaming fish soup. As they take place around the small table, only meant for two, I watch them while the pain is coming back.

They grab each others hands and close their eyes. I instantly know they're praying. It must've been Annie that has raised Daniella that way, something Annie began to do after everything that happened after the Quarter Quell. I noticed that she was praying sometimes while I was still alive and we were in District 13, which makes me wonder if it's even still there. If all those people have gotten a somewhat normal life, or just died, like useless pieces in a game.

I know Annie doesn't believe in God. That she knows that there's no one up there. But of course she has to try. Try to ease her life a little bit, to have something or someone she can rely on. And it helps, so why should I bother wondering about why she does it anyway? If she's better, it's good enough for me.

"Mom?" Dani asks quietly. Annie looks at her with tired, but questioning eyes. "Yes, my dear?"

"Do you think it will be me?" she whispers. Annie bites her lower lip, trying to fight the tears that threatens with flooding her bloodshut eyes.

"No, Dani. They will not pick you. You're safe."

Dani stirs slowly in her soup, apparently thinking, because she becomes all silent for a little while.

"Do you think dad is proud of me?" she finally whispers. Annie gasps quietly, looking at Dani with eyes that show both hurt and fear, but also certainty.

"Yes," she whispers back, her voice barely hearable. "I know he is. If he could see you, he would be so thrilled. You don't know how much I love you. He loves you just as much from where he is."

It gets hard to breathe, and I find myself gasping for air. Everything about just being here is so horribly sad, so melancholic that it threatens with taking me under. I want to reach out to her and give her a sign that I really am proud of her, but how could I? How will that ever be possible?

Dani doesn't say anything, she just finishes her soup in silence. So does Annie. No words, just silence.

* * *

Annie follows Dani to the Town Square where the usual procedures are performed. The pricking in the finger, the lines the kids get arranged in.

Dani is horrified when she gets separated from Annie. She cries, cries a lot, tries to hold onto her, but some Peacekeepers takes her away. Annie is crying too. But she tries so hard to remain calm and sane, but I, just like everybody else, have always known that it's too tough for her. She can't stay sane for long when she finally manages to pull it off. Getting her child taken away isn't any help.

I want to calm her down, embrace her and let her listen to my heartbeat – if I had one, that is. And I'll never be able to really touch her, to kiss her like I used to. She'll never look at me again, only old pictures of the man I used to be.

The ceremony starts. A woman I don't know steps onto the stage in front of the Justice Building. She looks way too superficial, with way too much make-up. She's from the Capitol, that's for sure.

To the far left you can see ever changing the ocean. How I miss it. But I'll never miss it as much as I miss Annie. It has left a hole in me where my heart used to be. I'm hollow without her, and even though being able to see her is helping, it'll never be enough. I'll never make sure she's safe, because Annie will never be safe. Not in her condition, and especially not with her being a new Mockingjay herself.

I dream my way to a time where Annie is okay. Where she's alright. Where no one will do her any harm, not her or Dani or any of the others. A time where they will no longer live in fear for what's coming, a time where Annie doesn't have to sacrifice herself to help the only part of me that's left in this world.

Daniella. I dream my way to a time where I can hold her, talk to her and tell her how much she reminds me of Annie. The love of my life. Tell them both how much I love them, and how being without them is much more painful than dying in itself.

I dream my way to a day where the Town Square isn't as quiet as the death, a day where Daniellas name isn't called out by the mysterious woman, a day where Annie doesn't get shot in the head by a Peacekeeper.


End file.
